Page 19 of Hellbent

Evan took a pause. “Which matters more? The works I’ve done or the life I lead?”

The minister was right. The words felt different in Evan’s body and behind his face.

“You assume they’re different,” the minister said. “One’s works and one’s life.”

“In some cases.”

“Like yours?”

“That remains to be seen.”

The minister gave a frown and nodded profoundly. It took a good measure of dignity to manage a profound nod, but he managed it just fine. “Do you follow the Commandments, son?”

Evan nearly smiled. “Yes, Minister. Every last one.”

“Then there’s your start.”

Evan held a beat before switching tracks. “I’d imagine that few people are woven into this community as well as you are.”

“I’d say you imagine right.”

“Has there been any word about government folks coming through town, a helicopter, a fire?”

The minister arched an eyebrow. “There has not.”

“Suspicious flurry of activity down by the”—he hesitated slightly before naming his nemesis—“Peachoid?”

“No.”

“How about alien spaceships cutting crop circles?” Evan countenanced the man’s watery glare. “Kidding.”

“What’s all this hokum about?”

“I was supposed to meet a friend at the peach water tower.”

“Why don’t you call him?”

“Long-lost friend. We’d arranged a meet online.”

“Hmm.” The minister mused a moment. “You sure you got the right one?”

A jolt of anticipation straightened Evan up slightly in the pew. “The right friend?”

“The right Peachoid. Same folks built a smaller one down in Clanton, Alabama.”

Evan had not in fact been following all the Commandments. He’d overlooked the first one: Assume nothing.

He rose. “Thank you, Minister. I can’t tell you how useful your guidance has been.”

“I serve with gladness.”

Evan shook the proffered sandpaper hand. “As do I.”

9

From Beyond the Grave

Five hours and thirty-eight minutes later, Evan was standing on the side of I-65 between Birmingham and Wetumpka, gazing up at a five-hundred-gallon version of the same eyesore.